


Cinderella, Made of Steel

by David Hines (hradzka)



Category: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: Family, Gen, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2008, recipient:Catw00man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-25
Updated: 2008-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-02 21:11:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hradzka/pseuds/David%20Hines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cameron is a Terminator working on being a person.  Sarah Connor is a warrior working on being a mother.  Sometimes their learning curves intersect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cinderella, Made of Steel

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Catw00man as part of Yuletide 2008. Thanks to Moriann for the beta and Lexie for a canon assist.

Cameron doesn't sleep.

John Connor (FUTURE LEADER OF HUMAN RESISTANCE, ESSENTIAL TO SURVIVAL OF HUMANITY) and Sarah Connor (MOTHER OF JOHN CONNOR, NOW EXPENDABLE) are usually in bed by midnight. Sarah often goes to bed earlier. Sarah says it is because soldiers should sleep when they can. Cameron knows it is because Sarah is growing older. Sarah says what she says about soldiers to instruct John. He does not often listen any more.

At night, Cameron performs occasional security patrols. The patrols are at irregular intervals. This prevents observers from learning her routine. She does this because Sarah instructed her to do so. Sarah is wrong. There is no point to patrolling for hostile Terminators. If a Terminator will come, it will come, and Cameron's place then is protecting John.

Between patrols, she tends the house. Cameron doesn't vacuum until the weekend, and then only when the Connors are awake and security needs are minimized. At night, she sweeps, dusts, mops. The house is large and requires careful attention. She starts laundry early in the evening, so the drier will be done by the time Sarah Connor is in bed. The buzzer startles Sarah. When Sarah is startled awake, she grabs for her gun. An accidental discharge would invite attention and possibly would injure John. Cameron wants Sarah to sleep soundly.

Cameron is considering learning to cook. If she does, she can drug Sarah's food with tranquilizers as circumstances warrant.

At 2:38 AM, Cameron is cleaning the stairs. She hears footsteps. It is not a threat. It is Derek Reese (SOLDIER, FROM FUTURE TIMELINE, BROTHER OF KYLE REESE, EXPENDABLE). He smells of a woman. He thinks Cameron does not know. Cameron will follow him at a future date in order to determine whether the woman poses a threat to John. If she does, Cameron will kill her.

"Working late?" Reese says.

"'Healthy, shiny wood surfaces can make your home come alive,'" says Cameron. It is an advertising slogan. Humans often quote them in conversation.

"Scary prospect," Reese says. It is a joke. He is playing on the image of a house that really does come alive. Cameron smiles and half-shrugs. It is body language that means "I understand the joke but it is not funny enough to laugh." Cameron has never laughed. Terminators know not to. Laughter is difficult to emulate convincingly.

"You were out late," she says. It is small talk. She is practicing it. She is also interested to hear his lie.

"I just walked," he says. "I was walking around the neighborhood. For two hours."

"It's a small neighborhood."

"I did laps."

He is not lying. The scent of the woman is faint. He was with her before the walk. "Why?" says Cameron.

"You wouldn't understand."

"No," says Cameron. "But I would like to."

Reese looks at her. He is not comfortable with her. She is not certain why. They knew each other in the future, but she cannot rely on those memories. Cameron came back in time after Reese did. She knows now that their actions in the present alter the future timeline. Before she returned, she was part of that timeline. Perhaps their history has been rewritten. Cameron does not know how he sees her.

"It hits me sometimes," says Reese. "Before I came back, I thought I'd dreamed it. It couldn't have been like this. But it is. People had lawns. They cared about how they looked. They drove their cars to their jobs along the little streets, they did the laundry, they went upstairs to watch TV. And nobody was trying to kill them." His voice softens as he speaks. "And it's so, so fragile." He stops. "I don't know why I'm explaining this to you," he says.

He is explaining it to Cameron because she asked. She doesn't say that. Reese made a rhetorical statement. It was not an invitation for comment.

"Be quiet as you go up," says Cameron. "Sarah has not been sleeping well."

"Thanks," says Reese. "I don't want to be shot."

Cameron does not want him to be shot either. He would require medical attention. That would be bad. He might die. That would be worse. Cameron has not allotted time in her schedule for disposing of a body. She does not say this.

"I feel bad for her," Reese says.

He means Sarah. "Why?"

"I got a normal childhood. John didn't. That sucked for him. But it sucked for her, too. She was so busy trying to raise the savior of humanity that she never had a chance to raise a child."

"I do not understand," says Cameron.

"No," says Reese. "I didn't think you would."

He takes off his boots and goes up the stairs quietly, stepping close to the wall to avoid any creaks.

When Cameron finishes with the stairs, she takes Reese's boots, cleans off the mud, and polishes them. Her analysis of the soil shows that it is not typical of the area, and that it is consistent with a tropical rainforest. She hypothesizes that Reese was in a botanical garden with the woman before they mated. Perhaps one is within walking distance of the woman's habitation. As Cameron acquires more data, she will be able to narrow down the woman's whereabouts. Reese is highly trained and would be difficult to follow, but if Cameron knows where the woman is she can arrive before Reese does and establish a surveillance post. Then she could confirm the woman's identity without Reese's knowledge.

That would greatly facilitate the woman's termination, should it become necessary.

* * *

"What is it like to be a child?" says Cameron.

Sarah Connor is cleaning guns. A field-stripped Glock is on the table. The cleaning rods and patches are laid out neatly. This is one of the few times that Sarah does not have a weapon on her person. But Sarah's chair is on rollers and it would be a simple matter for her to push back from the table and roll across the kitchen to the .45-70 Marlin lever-action rifle by the refrigerator. The rifle has a tactical rail and a holographic sight. John gave it to Sarah for Mother's Day.

"Why do you want to know that?" says Sarah. She picks up the Glock's barrel, leaving the frame and slide on the table, and frowns as she squints down it. "And why are you asking me?"

"I can't ask John," says Cameron. "His childhood was atypical." Sarah works her bore brush back and forth through the barrel, then picks up a different rod with a cleaning patch on the end. Glocks function well with less frequent maintenance than other firearms require. Sarah's Glock does not need to be cleaned. Sarah is bored and needs something to do. Cameron is counting on this to make Sarah receptive to Cameron's questions.

"Reese had a normal childhood," says Sarah. "Ask him."

Cameron cannot ask Reese because he and John are in Nevada acquiring weapons under false identities. Sarah means that Cameron should ask Reese when they return. That will not be until late tonight or tomorrow morning. Also, Cameron wants to know what Sarah thinks. So Cameron says, "He is a boy."

Sarah looks at Cameron. Her expression is puzzled. "So what?"

Cameron says, "Sometimes people discuss their childhoods. I did not have one. I should know what it is like to be a little girl."

"I'm not getting you a Barbie Dream House," says Sarah. The comment is not a joke. It is a wisecrack. People tell jokes to be funny. People tell wisecracks to show superiority in a humorous manner. Sarah is asserting dominance in order to change the subject. Cameron does not want to change the subject.

"I do not want a Barbie Dream House," says Cameron.

"Good, 'cause you're not getting one."

Cameron says quickly, "What would a mother and her daughter do? We could do those things. It would make our cover more convincing. And I would know what to tell people when they ask about you."

Sarah blinks, then stares at Cameron. She does not look angry. Cameron has chosen the moment well. Sarah is amused. She is smiling. She almost laughs. Cameron has never seen Sarah laugh. "Are you asking what I did when I was a girl?" Sarah says. She is incredulous.

This is an opening. Cameron says, "Yes."

Sarah shakes her head. She appears bewildered. This time she does laugh, a little. It is barely a laugh, more like a harsh sigh, and she only does it once. "The usual stuff," she says. "I climbed a lot of trees. I had pretend tea parties. Rode my bike to hell and gone. I ate cereal with a lot of sugar and watched too many Saturday morning cartoons: Josie and the Pussycats, the Pink Panther, Underdog. The Jetsons. Made up a kingdom with my friend Janie. We worked out a royal genealogy and everything. When I got older, I played softball. I stunk at it. What do you want to know?"

Cameron says, "Would you tell me about your mother?"

Sarah does not speak for a long minute. Cameron knows that a Terminator killed Sarah's mother in 1984.

"Most people don't really remember being a little kid," Sarah says. "I do. I don't know if it happened one time or a lot of times, but I remember being a little girl and going to bed. I remember my mother watching me brush my teeth, to make sure I did it right. And I put on my nightdress, and she brushed my hair. I think she put it in pigtails. And I got into bed, and she read me a story. And then she kissed me goodnight, and turned out the lamp. She left the light on in the hallway." Sarah's voice is soft. She is remembering, Cameron can tell. Sarah is thinking about being a child, and watching her mother leave the room. "It's funny I remember that. I was glad she left the light on in the hallway."

"What other things did you do together? What do you remember?"

"She'd look in on me sometimes at night, make sure I was asleep. A lot of the time I faked it. That's what kids do. I remember we baked a lot of cookies."

"Could we bake cookies?" Cameron does not try to sound hopeful. Sarah does not appreciate her efforts to feign emotion.

Sarah regards her with a strange expression. "You want to bake cookies?"

"Yes."

Cameron can see that Sarah is puzzled. She is not sure why Cameron wants to do this. Sarah does not trust Cameron. Sarah thinks Cameron is dangerous. Sarah is right.

"We can have them ready for John," Cameron says. "When he comes home."

Sarah hesitates. Then shrugs. "All right," Sarah says. "Let's go to the store. I think I remember how this works."

The preparation takes twice as long as Sarah's estimate. By the time the cookies are ready for the oven the kitchen counter is covered in flour and softened butter is somehow in Cameron's hair. Sarah slides the tray into the oven and wipes her forehead. The oven door has a small glass window in it. Cameron bends over and sees the little lumps of cookie dough on the tray.

"This is the best part," says Sarah. "Now we lick the bowl."

Cameron sticks out her tongue and bends over. Sarah puts a hand on her shoulder. "Not like that," Sarah says. She takes the wooden spoon they used for mixing and swipes the sides of the bowl. The spoon is soon covered in raw dough. Sarah lifts the spoon up, scrapes off a piece of dough with her finger, and pops it into her mouth. Cameron does the same. The chemical readout is different from what she had expected based on her previous encounters with cookies.

"That tastes funny," Sarah says. She frowns. She is thinking. "No, it's not funny. It's wrong. What did you put in this?"

"Only what you told me to. "

"Dammit." Sarah frowns "Something's missing... oh, hell. I forgot to get baking soda."

"Is that bad?" says Cameron.

Sarah opens her mouth. Then she closes it, slowly. "You know, I'm not sure," she says. "I haven't baked in twenty years."

Cameron is not certain whether Sarah means chronological or subjective time. But she knows better than to ask. She bends over again and looks at the cookies baking. They do not appear appreciably different from her previous inspection.

Cameron and Sarah wait for the cookies to finish baking. Sarah is hopeful, because she has remembered that not all cookie recipes require baking soda. But when the cookies come out of the oven, they are not soft and have not risen. They are dense and flat and hard. They are very difficult to chew. When they try the cookies, Sarah spits out her first bite. Then she shakes her head and laughs. It is a real laugh. The cookies are awful, unfit for human consumption. Cameron eats the entire batch.

Sarah says, "You'll get a bellyache."

"No, I won't," says Cameron. "I am capable of consuming --"

"That's what my mother always used to say."

"Oh. What did you say?"

"I said, 'Yeah, Mom. But it was worth it.'"

Cameron knows that Sarah will be angry if Cameron calls her "Mom." So she says, "Sarah. It was worth it."

Sarah stares at her for a moment. Then she shakes her head and smiles.

* * *

Cameron does not sleep.

Sarah sometimes calls Cameron a machine. To Reese, she is "metal." Technically, Cameron is a cyborg. Cameron has living tissue over a metal endoskeleton. But Sarah and Reese are not far wrong. Cameron's living tissues are not essential to her existence. They are essential to her disguise. Cameron's outer layers look like human tissue, but they are better. Cameron does not need to breathe as often as humans do. She does not need to eat, although she can. She does not need to urinate or defecate, although she can.

Because Cameron never sleeps, she does not have a nightdress. She puts on a long T-shirt instead. The shirt front has a picture of a middle-aged man's torso. The torso is wearing a green bathing suit and has a pot belly with a large navel. The shirt is a joke, what people call a gag gift. It is a birthday present from John. Cameron does not have a real birthday. John gave her one. The John she remembers from the future never thought to. Perhaps it is because this John is young.

Cameron goes downstairs wearing the T-shirt. John and Reese are not home yet. Sarah is reading a book on the sofa. The book is _Weapons Tests and Evaluations: The Best of Soldier of Fortune_.

Cameron waits. Eventually Sarah glances up. She sees Cameron, looks back down at the book, and then blinks and looks back at Cameron. "What're you doing wearing that thing?" Sarah says.

"I would like to go to bed," Cameron says. "I want to understand."

"You can't go back to childhood," says Sarah. "And you can't make something be that never was."

"I know."

"You just want to try it on for size."

"Yes."

Sarah puts down the book. Her hands grope fruitlessly at empty air. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous this is?"

"Yes," says Cameron. She is a cybernetic killing machine disguised as a teenage girl, she is wearing a shirt that makes her look like a middle-aged man with a pot belly, and she is asking the mother of the savior of humanity to read her a bedtime story.

Sarah says, "All right. What the hell."

* * *

Cameron brushes her teeth. She does not need to. Her teeth are self-regenerating. She does not develop cavities for long. But brushing makes her breath fresh. That is what advertisements say.

"Go in circles," says Sarah. "Not up and down. Two minutes." She looks at her watch, counting down. Cameron does the same with her internal clock. It is more accurate than Sarah's watch.

Cameron brushes her teeth in circles. She moves back to front, front to back, up and down, then again. Sarah watches. Sarah says nothing else for the first ninety seconds. Cameron brushes her teeth and waits for Sarah to say something. She can see that Sarah wants to.

"I almost never got to do this for John," says Sarah. "Not like this. We were in the jungle, or in the desert, or in a makeshift barracks somewhere. We almost never had a bathroom to ourselves." Cameron does not reply, because her mouth is full of froth. "When I was a little girl, I had a doll I took with me everywhere. I had it for years. I'd see it in my room at my mother's, when I went to visit. John never had anything like that. Because we moved light. We left everything behind. That was his childhood."

Cameron rinses off her toothbrush and spits. She cups water in her hand, swishes it around, and gargles. Then she spits again.

"Where did you learn gargling?" Sarah says.

"I saw it on the television," says Cameron. "Would you brush my hair now?"

"All right."

Cameron has a bedroom. She has never used it except to change clothes. She has not changed its decor to express her personality. Cameron does not have a personality. The bedroom has a dresser with a mirror. Cameron sits in front of it in a chair. A small box on the dresser holds hair scrunchies. Sarah takes four and puts them around her wrist. She stands behind Cameron and brushes Cameron's hair. Sarah brushes with swift strokes at first. She is brusque and businesslike and does not speak. "Is this the way your mother brushed your hair?" Cameron says.

Sarah stops. When she starts again, she brushes more slowly. Cameron watches. Sarah does not brush Cameron for very long. "A hundred strokes," Sarah says. She bundles Cameron's hair and pulls a scrunchie off her wrist. She puts the scrunchie in place and begins braiding. Cameron watches Sarah's fingers. The pattern is simple. Cameron could do this for herself, or for a child.

Sarah says, "Another Terminator told me that the more time you spend with humans, the more you learn." The braid is done. Sarah puts another scrunchie on the bottom and moves to the other side, where she begins braiding again.

"Yes," says Cameron. Today she has learned how to bake cookies badly and how to braid hair.

"So here's a thought: maybe this time with us is as close as you'll ever get to having a childhood. Right now. Every day. You don't need to understand it. Because you're living it." Sarah snaps the band in place and steps back. "There you go. Pigtails." Sarah frowns. "It looks a little silly on you."

"Yes," says Cameron. "It looks a little silly."

"I suppose you want a bedtime story," says Sarah.

"Yes."

"All right. Get into bed. I'll get a book."

Cameron has not used the bed before. She changes the sheets regularly, for appearances. But the bed is always made. The sheets open with reluctance. They are cool against her bare legs.

Sarah returns with a book and sits down beside the bed. Sarah reads the story of Cinderella. Cinderella's father remarries, and then dies. Cinderella lives with her cruel stepsisters and her wicked stepmother. They make her work as if she were a slave. Cinderella carries the ashes from the fireplace. She cleans and presses the dresses and sweeps the floors and washes the dishes.

"Like me," says Cameron.

"What?"

"She cleans. Like me."

"Does that make me the wicked stepmother?" says Sarah.

Her face holds confusion and self-doubt, but that is a brief flash, and then Cameron recognizes the expression she's seen so often on Sarah Connor's face. Contempt and anger, barely suppressed. "I didn't say that," Cameron says.

"The machines are wicked," says Sarah. "Not me."

"Yes," says Cameron. "Not you."

After a long pause, Sarah goes on. She reads about the glass slipper, the prince who goes from door to door to find the woman whom it fits. Cinderella's stepsisters use knives to trim away pieces of their feet in order to fit into the slipper. But the prince finds them out when he sees the slipper is full of blood. Finally, he finds Cinderella. She tries on the slipper, and it fits, and they are married.

"And they lived happily ever after," reads Sarah. She closes the book. She has a surprised look on her face. There is a trace of pleasure there, as well. Sarah had read to a child named Martin Bedell while they were protecting him from a Terminator killing individuals of that name. Sarah had seemed to enjoy reading to the boy. Cameron suspects she has missed doing it.

Sarah says nothing for several moments after the story is over. She stares into space. She is thinking. Eventually she says, "Why did you want to do this? Was it just so you could experience it?"

It would be impolitic to say that Reese had said Sarah was unhappy. "You have never had a daughter," Cameron says. "It is important for our cover that you should have these experiences too." She hesitates, and remembers that Sarah had seemed happy when John had said the next words to her. "Happy Mother's Day."

"It's December."

"I'm early."

Discomfort is visible in Sarah's face. So is sadness. Sarah bends over and reaches for the bedside lamp. She turns it off. Then Sarah stands up too quickly and walks toward the door. Cameron calls after her. "Sarah?"

Sarah stops. "What?" she says. She does not look back at Cameron.

"You're not the wicked stepmother," says Cameron.

Sarah is still for a long moment. She turns around. Hesitates. Then she walks slowly over to Cameron, bends over, and kisses her forehead. When she straightens up, Sarah has a strange expression on her face, as if she can't believe what she has just done. She shakes her head, just a little, and reaches down a hand to smooth Cameron's hair. Her finger drums absently on Cameron's skin, tap tap, tap tap tap, as if she hears and is responding to the sound of distant drums.

"Good night, Cameron," she says.

"Good night, Sarah."

Sarah leaves, walking a little slowly, as if she's stunned, or very tired.

Cameron does not sleep. She lies with her eyes open, looking at the ceiling. She will wait until Sarah has gone to bed before getting dressed and making her nightly rounds. If Sarah looks in on her, she decides, she will pretend to be asleep, because that is what children are supposed to do. Cameron has never feigned sleep before, but she does not think it will be difficult.

Sarah leaves the hall light on.

* * *

Derek Reese and John come home at 1:47 AM. Each of them is holding a rifle case in each hand, and Reese has a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. The duffel bag is likely full of handguns. Cameron knows that Reese is curious about what the .454 Casull and .500 Magnum will do against a Terminator at close range. Cameron is cleaning the windows when they arrive.

"Merry Christmas," says Reese. "Got something for you in the truck. Gonna need your help to carry it in, though."

Cameron has never received a Christmas present, so she is curious. She goes outside and looks into the driveway. There is a large crate in the bed of the pickup truck. The crate is covered by a tarp. One corner of the tarp has a cheap stick-on ribbon attached. There is also an envelope with Cameron's name on it. The envelope is held to the tarp with clear tape. Neither the ribbon nor the envelope would stay on at highway speed. John and Reese must have added them before coming into the house.

Cameron ignores the ribbon and the envelope. She pulls the tarp off the crate. It is military hardware. The side of the crate is stenciled "PGU-28/B."

"A case of 20mm Vulcan ammunition," Cameron says. Her voice does not show it, but she is honestly surprised. "Semi-armor piercing high explosive incendiary. Thank you. Where did you acquire this? It is strictly controlled."

"Ah," says Reese. "Well, it's a long and complex story --"

"National Guard vehicle broke down," says John. "They transferred the shipment, overlooked a crate."

"Or it could be simplified."

"We just lucked into it," says John. "Picked it up and ran like the wind. Cut the trip short and had to take the very long way around to get back without running into roadblocks."

"It was an unnecessary risk," says Cameron.

"Yeah," says John. "I know. Merry Christmas. Should be good in that little takedown rifle from Anzio Ironworks. And hey, it beats reloading, right?"

"We baked cookies for you," says Cameron. "But they turned out very badly. So I ate them."

Reese and John are confused. They stare at her, then turn and look at each other. Cameron suspects they want to know about the cookies. But they do not ask. Reese clears his throat first. "Okay," he says. The o is long and drawn out, as is the a, and they carry exaggerated tones, the o falling and the a rising. People do this when they are dubious and slightly puzzled, but have no desire to make an issue of it. "You want to help me bring in your present?" says Reese.

Cameron does not need Reese's help with the crate, but she cannot easily see around it while she is carrying it. She solves this problem by walking backwards and looking over her shoulder. Reese moves ahead of her to make sure the way is clear. As Cameron comes up the stairs, the heel of her shoe catches on the bottom step. The strap is loose, and her foot comes out. It falls to the walkway in front of the bottom step. Cameron does not need shoes to protect her feet. But John bends down anyway. On one knee, he picks up the shoe and carefully slides it back onto her foot. "There you go," he says.

Cameron says, "Someday my prince will come." It is a joke. People find unexpected cultural references to be amusing. She expects John to laugh, and he does. So does Reese.

After the crate is put away, Reese goes up to bed. John does not go upstairs right away. He goes to the kitchen and pours a glass of milk. Cameron follows him. "You took an unnecessary risk tonight," she says. John shrugs. He is clearly unrepentant. He is also unprepared for what Cameron says next. "Would you like to take another?"

* * *

Cameron leaves the house behind. She does not take a vehicle, because she does not want to wake Reese or Sarah. She walks briskly down the road. When the houses thin out, she switches to a run. Although this is an unnecessary risk, the house is not unprotected. John Connor is on watch. This will be a useful training exercise for him. Cameron will not be away for long. The all-night drugstore is only twenty-six blocks away.

There is no traffic on the side streets. Cameron slows to a walk five blocks away from the drugstore. She is careful not to be observed moving at her peak speed.

Only one drugstore clerk is on duty. He is a middle-aged Indian man. He is balding and has a pot belly. If his skin were lighter and if he were wearing green swim trunks, he would look like the man on Cameron's long T-shirt. He is standing with his elbow propped on his ribs and his chin on his hand. He is clearly tired and looks half asleep. He is startled when his eyes flicker open to see Cameron standing in front of him.

Cameron says, "Good morning. Do you sell baking soda?"

When she returns to the house, she sees that John has folded the tarp and put it away. The card with her name on it is stuck to the house's front door. This means that it is important to John that she open it. So Cameron does. There is a Christmas card inside the envelope. The front of the card shows a Christmas dinner. Everyone at the table is a robot. The robots do not look like Terminators. They have rectangular heads and square bodies and limbs that are rounded with no joints, like flexible ducts. Their hands are pincer-like claws. The picture does not show them below the waist, so Cameron cannot see their feet. The robot at the foot of the table is the smallest of them. It has a crutch under one arm. The other robots are looking at the small robot. They are smiling. The small robot is lifting its glass. People do this when they make a toast.

Cameron opens the card. The small robot at the end of the table is on the inside of the card, too. It is still lifting a glass. This time there is binary code in a black-bordered white oval by the robot's head. A pointed tail runs from the oval to the robot. This is to indicate that the robot is speaking. The robot is saying,

> 01000111 01101111 01100100 00100000 01100010 01101100 01100101 01110011 01110011 00100000 01110101 01110011 00101100 00100000 01100101 01110110 01100101 01110010 01111001 00100000 01101111 01101110 01100101 00100001

Below the robot John has written, "Merry Christmas to a new sister and a great bodyguard." The card is signed by John and Reese.

Cameron has now read the card, as John wished. She walks around the corner of the house to the garbage can. She removes the lid and holds the card over the opening. Then she remembers something Sarah had said.

Cameron does not throw the card away. She goes to her unused bedroom and puts the card on the dresser. That is what people call decor. It shows her personality. When Cameron goes away on a mission, and then comes back and goes to her room to change clothes, she will see it. This will please John. But John has never had reminders of his life around him. So if this is her childhood, it will not be like John's. This will please Sarah. By pleasing Sarah, Cameron may be able to influence her in the future to make her better serve John's requirements.

Cameron positions the card so that it is standing up and is visible from the doorway. Then she goes downstairs with the baking soda.

* * *

On any given morning, Sarah or Reese is usually first to rise. This morning, the smells from the kitchen permeate the house. Cameron believes this explains why Sarah, Reese, and John all come downstairs at the same time. They are still in their sleepwear. They appear puzzled. Sarah is first into the kitchen.

"I baked cookies," says Cameron. "My batch yesterday was bad. I forgot the baking soda. So I tried again." She blames herself for Sarah's mistake. This shows deference to Sarah.

"Where did you get baking soda?" says Sarah.

"I found some," says Cameron. "In a cupboard." It is a plausible lie. She could tell the truth, but then Sarah will be angry with her and with John. More so with John. Lying to Sarah shows John that Cameron will keep his secrets. This will encourage John to entrust Cameron with information. "I followed your recipe. And I licked the bowl."

Sarah hesitates. Then she picks up a cookie and bites into it. She chews and swallows. "It tastes like Mom's," Sarah says. Her voice is quiet. Cameron tries to gauge Sarah's reaction. Sarah does not look pleased. But she does not look angry.

Cameron says, "Merry Christmas."

They sit down to breakfast together. Everyone has a plate piled high with cookies and everyone has a glass of milk. Cameron is usually busy elsewhere while the Connors eat. Now she sits down with them. Cameron is at the foot of the table. The scene is like her Christmas card from John. Cameron is in the place of the little robot. She remembers the card, and what the little robot said inside it. So she lifts her glass and says, so that John can hear her and understand, "God bless us, every one."

For John and Cameron, this is what people call an in-joke. This will strengthen their relationship. Cameron knows it is also a humorous cultural reference. The others will find this amusing. This will dispose them to look more favorably on Cameron.

Cameron watches as the Connors and Derek Reese enjoy her cookies. She realizes that Terminators too often focus on overtly physical means of destroying their targets. She decides to research poisons and their manufacture and uses. She will start with ricin.

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